The night passed in a blur of cluster-feeding, diaper changes, and restless half-sleeps. Every time a nurse checked our room, my mind raced back to Garrett’s parting look at Owen. It wasn’t paternal pride; it was possession. He wanted a son to carry a legacy he was actively destroying from the inside out. But Harper—our fierce, vocal little girl who had fought just as hard to enter this world—deserved a mother who would never let her be treated as second best.
By 7:00 AM, Dana was on speakerphone in our hospital suite, her voice crisp and professional despite the early hour.
“Filing for temporary restraining orders, temporary custody parameters, and financial injunctions simultaneously is our best play,” Dana explained, her words cutting through the morning fog in my brain. “In Texas, temporary orders set the baseline for the litigation. If Garrett attempts to establish a narrative that you are unstable or withholding access out of spite, your documentation of the Beacon Freight investigation and the joint account transfers will neutralize it.”
